Just As Well
by brownfrown
Summary: Oneshot, Tifa and Cloud as kids. I don't really like Tifa, and I think it shows...


Final Fantasy 7/Advent Children

Just As Well

"Tifa! Wait!"

Ten-year-old Tifa Lockheart paused at the shout. She knew she recognized that voice from somewhere…she turned to get a better look at whoever it was. The first thing she noticed was the shock of spiky blond hair that stuck out at all angles from the shouter's head.

"Wait!" the shouter, a young boy of about her age, yelled again. Ah, _now_ Tifa knew who this was! He was Eleanor Strife's son, that odd one who ignored everyone else in town but his own mom. Well, to be fair, everyone else ignored him first, but that hardly mattered in Tifa's mind. All she knew was that he was _different_.

By now the boy had caught up with her, and Tifa was struggling to remember his name. Something odd, something to do with the landscape…Sky? No…it was weirder…Cloud….yeah! Cloud! That was it! Tifa remembered how everyone had laughed the first day of school all those years ago when the teacher had called out his name. That's where she knew him! He used to go to the one-room school at the inn with her and her friends. She couldn't remember why he had stopped coming…

"What do you want?" she said, rather rudely yet appropriately in her mind, as she hardly knew the strange little boy.

All of a sudden, Cloud looked embarrassed. As if he couldn't believe he had gotten up the nerve to come within a ten foot radius of the most popular girl in town, not to mention actually speak to her.

"Well? I can't wait all day, you know. I'm supposed to be somewhere," she said, trying to hurry him along. Who was he to make her late to her martial arts class? Master Zangan would be angry if she was late again.

"Could I…" he faltered, staring hard at his feet. Tifa noticed that even though he had to have been her age, or maybe even older, she was taller than him. Those spikes might've made him look taller, but he really stood at a couple of inches shorter than her. The thought of that made her giggle. She usually hung out with older boys, the preteens that were at her level in martial arts. She was, after all, pretty advanced for her age, a fact she was very proud of, especially as she enjoyed kicking the butts of the guys her age.

"Spit it out already!"

"Could I please come with you?" Cloud finally said, whispering softly and cringing as though she would hit him or something. Then again, she supposed he had good reason. The other boys used every opportunity to use him as target practice.

Before she could help it, she started laughing. And not just giggling, but in a moment she would be in hysterics. This little wimp? Come to martial arts? With _her_? A quick glimpse at his heartbroken expression made her realize he was serious. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't just go around bringing people to my sessions. I have to _work_. And besides, I _know_ you can't afford a lesson with Zangan. You'd just be in my way."

Instead of crying or running off or doing anything Tifa expected him to do, Cloud adopted a look reminiscent of a rock. Completely composed and stoic. They sat there for a moment, staring at each other, and Tifa could have sworn she saw a flash of anger pass through he eyes, but only for the briefest of moments. Then, he broke the silence with the one thing she was not expecting, not in a million years:

"Try and hit me."

She stared. "Excuse me?"

He glared back at her. "I said, try and hit me. Try and hit me and see what happens. Then you can tell me whether or not I can fight."

Tifa had no clue how to react to this. Hesitantly, she raised her right hand, stared at it for a moment, and then stared at Cloud once again. Hitting him would be mean, cruel, and definitely not constitute as an appropriate action in Zangan's book. But on the other hand, that look…she didn't know why, but something in his eyes made her want to find out what would happen…

Finally she struck out with all her might, expecting the slight boy in front of her to land on his butt two feet away. But to her surprise, she found the move firmly blocked – and then, out of nowhere, his other hand shot up, knocking her off balance before she even had time to react.

From her spot on the ground, Tifa gasped. "What the-?"

Cloud calmly held out his hand, and she took it, completely astounded by his behavior. As soon as she was up and dusting herself off, Cloud broke the silence once again.

"So, can I come with you?" He looked at her with eyes once again hopeful and full of emotion. The rigid impassiveness that had overtaken him disappeared even quicker than it had come.

"O-only if you tell me where you learned to fight, 'cuz I know you don't go to Zangan's!"

He shrugged, a thing that Tifa would look back on later and think of as a very Cloud-like gesture. "My mom. Dad taught her before he died."

This made Tifa gape even more. Who would've thought that a foreigner like Cloud's dad would know martial arts? And that he would teach his wife? "Yeah, come on…I dunno what Zangan's gonna say, though…"

"Don't worry about him," Cloud said firmly and confidently. It was almost as if he had everything planned, a fact that worried the meticulous, often overbearing girl. She was used to being in control, and she could not control Cloud. He was a new factor, an unknown variable in an already stable equation. A variable that could upset the whole balance that Tifa had strove to create.

For that reason she couldn't allow this one boy to topple her empire. She wouldn't let him be the variable the reversed the formula. That couldn't – wouldn't – happen.

"No!" she shouted suddenly, instinct taking over. Her territory was in danger.

Cloud looked at her, confused. "What?"

"No! No, you can't come! You'll never be one of us! So just stop! Stop trying! You're different, just leave me alone!" Tifa yelled. She couldn't handle this. She couldn't handle this boy and the implications of his arrival. She had everything figured out, she had a great life, with a great family, friends who obeyed her, boys who were wrapped around her finger, and was a master at martial arts. Nothing would upset that. Ever.

Cloud let the unemotional face take over once again. Nothing would come of this. He had tried, and he had failed. So far this seemed to be a pattern in his life. Some ritual he was doomed to repeat, over and over and over until his cycle on this planet was complete and he rejoined the lifestream – if he didn't fail to find that as well.

It was just as well. Tifa was a pretty girl, a smart girl, but she already had her perfect little world. Cloud had his mom and his training. That was all he needed, all he thought he wanted. For a brief moment he had wanted more, wanted to be a part of a group of people, wanted a place in this society, wanted friends – and look where that got him. Rejected, just like he was rejected at school and everywhere else. Just like everyone had always rejected him, even his mother, especially after his father had died. After his dad rejoined the lifestream, the only communication he had with his mom was through training and fighting. That was all she would talk about; she was completely listless when it came to every other topic. But she and Cloud communicated through fighting and martial arts, and so it was just as well that he couldn't go to Zangan. That would ruin his relationship with his mother.

Just as well.

Later, Cloud would look back on that incident with dispassion. He wasn't bitter at Tifa, he wasn't angry at himself – that was merely how the world went. Eventually he would forget all about it, but not by natural means. He would forget because he was forced to forget, as he was forced to forget everything else in Hojo's lab, even his humanity.

But that wouldn't happen for a long time yet, and that was just as well.

Just. As. Well.


End file.
